You say you want magic?
Well I’ll show you magic.
All you need to do is stop,
pay attention, look carefully,
closely to sunflowers with their
bright yellow petals and, looking
even closer (no magnifying glass
needed), see the tiny vein
down the middle.
When you pull out dandelions,
notice their strong central root,
the lovely yellow flower.
How’s that for magic?
I am just a child who wants to be held
I am just a child who wants to be held
I am just a child who wants to be held
But no one’s ever wanted to hold me
But no one’s ever wanted to hold me
But no one’s ever wanted to hold me
But no one’s ever wanted to hold me
But no one’s ever wanted to hold me
Never have the spider webs
sung to me this sweetly,
woven all the day and night
as cacophony surrounds them.
As if they perspire, toxic beads evaporate
and small silences are cleaned away,
then dry and quiet notes begin,
almost mistaken for a swish of breeze.
But the web spiders hear melodies,
tunes of their labors well woven,
strong when percussive beings pass,
laced beautiful in the feasting phrases.
Spider eggs are humming.
Cloudless blue sky, day alive and bright .
Savagely altered into gray night.
A President calmly teaching his flock,
Innocence stolen before nine o’clock.
Towers almost touching the sky, Cruelly felled as we wondered “Why”.
Our people, though shattered by the vast devastation,
were strengthened by Rudy’s determination.
Seeing the President, bullhorn in hand
Inspired Americans to take a stand.
Old Glory waving proudly from cars East to West,
As our generation would be put to the test.
September Eleventh Two Thousand and One,
An ordinary day when it was begun,
But changed in an instant by that act of war,
When we were reminded, freedom’s worth fighting for.
For most of this long and perilous trip,
Grandest feeling came following a lost grip.
The calm and balm felt after a frightful storm,
Cool breezes of tranquil aftermath, yet warm.
The fear, dread while in the mental tempest –
Thought of Ultimate quit, peeks into the abyss.
In its stead, the journey has evolved into a Joy;
Vanquishing terrors fallen to a rejoicing ploy.
Paralyzing moments – doom, gloom gone, rid,
Welcomed jubilation, newfound rest to bid.
The Great Orchestrator has placed a grin
On this spirit – heartened, ready for new begin.
I don’t mean anything to these people
These places
These things
I’ve always been a void filler
A moment passed
A time in their life
But never a solitary figure.
They look at me as disposable
Replaceable.
Compostable.
I try to plant roots
And they get mold
I try to plant roots
And they get cut
I just want stability
But no one seems to want me to stay
So I’ll go again
And again
And again
The hole inside getting bigger, larger, angrier.
I guess I’ll go.. you don’t need me
I guess I’ll go… you all don’t need me
I guess
I’ll
Go
I’m
Not
Needed.
Morning light peeks
through strands
of gray clouds
left over from
black night. As the day
goes on, bright light
brings out the vibrant colors
of yellow tulips until
the earth turns
leaving our world in half-light
until the sun seems to
descend into the western sea
leaving us in dark night.
Oh, to be a child again.
The ebb and flow of the days, of the months… alas of the years.
Soon it will be your turn, my precious one, to take on the burdens and the joys.
But for now, your life is soft and cuddly and protected.
Oh my child, my dear child.
If you could only remember these times,
Not only for the happenings, but also for the feelings,
And deliver them to your own dear little ones.
Then the days and the months and the years will flow anew,
Oh, to be a child again.
A haiku and two tankas:
1.
Red maple next to
shimmering water flames in
early October.
2.
Red cardinals, black
and white chickadees, brown and
tan sparrows, yellow
gold finches, house finches’ red
heads, eat seeds at my feeder.
3.
Red kidney, black, white
cannelli, tan garbanzos:
beans soak in a pot
like multi-colored pebbles
in the water at the beach.
